


End of Line

by deerna



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Artificial Intelligence, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Gen, Graphic Description, M/M, Mercy Killing, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 17:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10496220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deerna/pseuds/deerna
Summary: Lance was too important to die. Keith's solution, and Keith's regret.Lance had every reason to hold a grudge against them. He could’ve hacked the castle’s system, and sent them crashing into a star, because it was their fault if he was dead. It was their fault if he was never going back to his family.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've ended up reworking a few parts of this piece, comparing to its draft on my tumblr (you can read it [here](http://somewhatclear.tumblr.com/post/156952418441/end-of-line)).
> 
> I've written a triple drabble with Lance's POV for the 'revelation scene' for a challenge, you can read it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10419600/chapters/23009580).
> 
> Read the other notes if you need to check what the tags refer to.

Lance was too important to die. 

Keith had decided that one day while they were showering after a mission. It had been a mess; he and Lance had sneaked onto a Galra ship, attempting to gain intel about the Empire, but they had been caught and they had to slash their way out through a bunch of Galra soldiers. Red managed to extract them just in time, but they were exhausted and soaked in blood. 

“Man, I almost died, today,” Lance drawled, shoving his head under the stream. “ _Again_.”

There wasn’t much that Keith could reply to that. 

He scrubbed at his scalp, trying to be efficient about cleaning his hair, but the hot water felt too good against his knotted muscles not to indulge.

“Seriously though,” Lance said again, glancing at Keith, “do you ever think about the fact that we’re risking our lives? Every single day?”

“Not really, no.” 

“Seriously?” Lance turned to look at him, surprised expression on his face. His body looked as wiry as ever, but he had a thin cut on his jaw where a Galra blade had nicked him and a nasty bruise on his flank. It hurt only by looking at it. 

Keith took his time to rinse the suds off his hair before answering. “It’s not like I have anything to lose. Shiro is here. I don’t have anyone waiting for me, back on Earth. Nobody’s going to miss me.” It suddenly sounded like a really terrible thing to say, but it was too late to take it back. 

“Fuck, that sounds awful.” 

Keith shrugged. It was the truth. He didn’t feel awful about it. Actually, he felt like he was luckier than any of them; the fact that he didn’t have a family who could mourn him meant that he wasn’t going to give grief to anyone. He could die without thinking about the consequences. It was almost a comforting thought, but he knew that Lance was going to be upset if he were to say it out loud, so he just kept scrubbing at his hair. 

“Also that’s a lie, I would miss you.” 

It was Keith’s turn to turn and look at him. 

“I mean.” Lance shrugged. “There’s actually a disturbingly high probability that we’ll die at the same time, so we won’t really have time to think about it I guess but- I would miss you. The team would miss you.” He gave him a tired smile, and turned back to the showerhead to keep washing. 

Keith blinked, and turned off the water. 

*

The team wasn’t going to miss Keith. He was just a pilot; there was nothing special about the Red Paladin, aside from his skills. 

_Lance_ was special. The team was going to miss him. His personality. The way he could make fun of any situation, the constant chatter on the comms, the inapropriate, non-stop flirting. The dumb shit he said in the least appropriate moments. His being genuine and sincere, completely trusting. 

Keith thought that he was dumb and full of himself, at first; he acted like he could do anything, but didn’t actually have the weight to pull it off, and the worst thing about it all was that he was _loud_ about it. He hated it. 

But then, mind-melding through Voltron, and living in close quarters for so long, Keith had suddenly realized that Lance was the real deal. He was smarter than he looked; he was the best strategist on the team, and he came up with decent plans before everyone else; he was just so used to have them hijacked by someone else that he didn’t even _consider_ to fight and take the merit, as long as shit got done. He had _excellent_ aim, and he truly was the sharpshooter he boasted to be. He flubbed all the simulations and he’d never completed a training session with full marks, but on the field he was quick on his feet and reacted surprisingly well under pressure. He was actually good as a team player, because he doubted himself so much that he ended up trusting everyone else more. Wholeheartedly. Loudly engaging with every and each of the people around him, because it was the only way he could show he was _there_ with them. 

Sometimes his antics still got on Keith’s nerves, but he could live with it. He had started to believe that he couldn’t live _without_ it. 

*

Lance’s terrified cry for help was going to haunt Keith’s nightmares forever.

*

It was hard at first, seeing him like that. 

“Keith! You came! Man, you really need to see this, look.” 

Lance’s room was big and comfortable, with lots of posters on the walls, a low bed that was actually a futon spread on a comfier mattress, and lots of pillows. Pidge had actually cried when they saw that there was a television in the room. The desk was covered in books about basic math and piloting techniques; they looked utterly untouched, almost fake. A small wardrobe was pushed on the other side of the room. The window opened on a balcony, and a row of small, dainty houses was just visible outside. Everything looked strangely new and battered with use at the same time. The room was spotless, and was as messy as only a teenager room could be.

Lance was laying on his stomach directly on the floorboards, leafing through a book. 

“What’s this?” Keith asked, as he sat cross-legged on one of the pillows scattered on the floor, peering down at the bound book Lance was looking at. Now that Keith was closer, he could see that it actually was an album full of pictures. 

“It’s a scrapbook! My mom loves collecting photos. She says that they feel much more like memories than digital pictures. Man, I was really small here, look! I was like, five? It was my abuela’s birthday I think- I can’t really remember that day, except that I burned myself with the candles… isn’t it strange?” 

“Very strange,” Keith answered, but he wasn’t really paying attention. He was too distracted by Lance’s skin, smooth and whole. He looked happy, unconcerned. His eyes danced as he looked down at his younger self, full of mirth and remembrance. 

“Another thing I _do_ remember is her cat. He had found the pile of gifts before we could give them to Abuela and he ripped it all-” Lance looked up and his smile turned into a worried, uncomfortable frown. “Are you okay? Why are you crying?” 

Keith touched his face and found it wet. “Ah, sorry, it’s nothing. It’s just-” 

“Oh god, I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to rub into your face that I have a family. I’m so sorry, Keith.” 

Lance extended a hand, trying to touch him, and Keith quickly got up, getting away. “I’m fine, Lance, sorry about it. I need to go now, I’ll see you later?”

Lance didn’t look convinced. “Sure? See you.” He closed the album, sitting up. 

Keith ran out of the room as the wooden door morphed back to its original Altean appearance. When Keith turned around to give it a last glance, Lance’s blue semi-translucent form, now still and lifeless, still had that uncertain frown on its features. 

*

Keith ran. He could hear Blue growling behind him, angry and full of grief, her metal paws heavy and loud on the ground as she chased him. He could feel Red at the edge of his mind; the lion knows that Keith was in danger, but he was not coming to save him this time. 

_You reap what you sow_. 

He woke up with a shout just as the Blue Lion’s fangs closed on him. 

*

It was supposed to happen, sooner or later, but Keith still felt like he had been doused in ice water when Pidge announced at the table that they had talked it out with Lance.

“ _What?!”_ Hunk yelled, disbelief painted all over his face.

“Look, he was already starting to put the pieces together,” Pidge sighed as they sat at the table. “What else was I supposed to do? I mean, Lance isn’t- _wasn’t_ stupid, even if he sure acted a lot like he was. It was either telling him, or letting him mulling it over until he found out.”

Hunk threw the spork on the table and hid his face into his hands. “How did he react?”

Pidge looked suddenly uncomfortable. “Well. He cried.” 

The team was very quiet.

“He- it was very- it’s so weird. I could tell it was... _Lance-like_ , you know? He didn’t believe me at first. He was like ‘okay Pidge, this isn’t very funny’, but then he realized I wasn’t kidding and he-” Pidge cut themselves off. They were sniffling a little as well. “It was _awful_ and I couldn’t even hug him. Had you ever seen him cry before? I hadn’t. He went like, all quiet, and- it was _awful._ ”

Hunk’s breath sounded really wet. Keith’s guts felt cold.

*

“You know what blows? That I cannot touch you. I think I’m getting touch starved, man.” 

“You could ask Pidge to literally program it out of your code.”

“I know, but I don’t want to bother them. They were already nice to program _sleep_ into me. Can you believe this shit? I can _sleep_.” Lance yawned, as if to demonstrate. “See? I’m tired. And I’m going to fall asleep on you any minute.”

“You’re going to fall asleep _through_ me, technically.”

“Don’t be a fucking wet blanket, Keith.” 

“Sorry.” And by that he actually meant _sorry I turned you into an AI because I couldn't stand the idea of you not being in my life._

“It’s okay, I know you’re not doing it on purpose.” 

They were sitting just outside Lance’s house, on the desert sidewalk, watching the sun set behind the row of houses in front of them. Keith couldn’t tell if the houses looked all the same because of some architectural project, or if it was because Lance had never really paid attention to them and so they ended up looking standard in his memories. Not that it was important. 

It felt really weird showing up in a different place every time, but it only made sense. They had been all homesick for ages; it was only natural that whatever was left of Lance’s consciousness had chosen to revisit all the places it missed the most, since it had the actual chance to do it. 

“Why sleep?”

“Mh?”

“Why did you ask Pidge for _sleep_ , of all things?”

“Oh.” Lance looked thoughtful for a second. “For the same reason there’s a _sleep mode_ button on most laptops, I guess. I mean, it makes sense on a energetic level? Apparently the castle consumes energy to keep me around, so if I go to sleep I don’t waste as much energy as I do being awake all the time.” 

Keith thought of Lance’s translucent form getting stuck mid-word as Pidge, explaining that very same thing, opened the door of the simulator, back in the first days. “I thought you already got to go sleep mode when we got out of the room.”

Lance flinched, and covered it up with a shrug. “Yeah, but it was very abrupt, and glitchy, and losing time like that kind of freaked me out,” he admitted. “So Pidge turned it into a on/off cycle. We kept the sleep cycle as a model because it made sense. The glitching isn’t as bad, and I get to nap whenever I want. It feels more… natural.” 

Oh. Keith had never really thought it like that.

“Besides, it’s boring as fuck around here while you guys are off doing missions. I can’t exactly go bother Allura or Coran. At least I can sleep.” He looked up at the sun, that had been stuck somewhere halfway through the horizon for a few minutes. “I hoped to dream.” 

“You can dream?”

Lance’s head snapped in Keith’s direction, and he looked alarmed, as if he didn’t mean to say that last thing aloud. He suddenly looked uncomfortable- as uncomfortable as a slightly bluish person made out of hard light could look. “Uhm. I’m still a string of code in a machine, Keith,” he reminded him, turning his eyes away, with a slightly forced smile. 

“You _hoped_ to dream,” Keith quoted at him.

Lance hugged his legs to his chest, petulantly sticking his chin on top of them, and huffed. “Pidge doesn’t really get how this works,” he explained, gesturing vaguely at himself. “They say that it looks like fairly normal code, until it decides to delete and rewrite itself with no warning. There are a few parts that they could hack and understand, but others are just a fucking mystery. If I am the accurate transcription of a human mind-” he suddenly cut himself off, a haunted expression on his face. 

Keith shivered. 

“I wanted to know if I’m still human enough to dream,” Lance crackled a few seconds later, with a broken smile. “But it hasn’t happened yet.” 

*

“Are you going to see Lance again?”

Keith stopped in his tracks, and turned to look at Shiro. “Today’s supposed to be Pidge’s turn, but maybe later. Why?”

Shiro looked embarrassed. “Can you bring him a message from me?”

“You could tell him yourself, you know. He’s not mad at you. He’s not mad at any of us,” Keith told him. 

It was terrifying, but it was the truth. Lance had a very good reason to hold a grudge against them. He could’ve hacked the castle’s system, and sent them crashing into a star, because it was their fault if he was dead. It was their fault if he was never going back to his family. 

But Lance didn’t. Every time one of the Paladins showed up at his step, he smiled and entertained them. He told them silly stories from his childhood. He hang out with Hunk in their favourite spot at the Garrison, reliving the old times. He let Pidge poke and prod at his code, and then wrecked their ass playing old video games. Once, he brought Keith into his own old shack (“Sorry if it’s inaccurate, I’ve been there literally once,” Lance had apologized with a smirk).

Shiro was the only one who hadn’t gone to see him yet. Lance had asked of him a couple times, but he hadn’t pushed to see him. Keith wondered if he knew something he didn’t. 

“I know he’s not,” Shiro smiled, in that sad way of his. “But I can’t go. I need you to tell him that I’ll never come to his room. Can you tell him that I’m really sorry?”

They stared at each other for a long minute, then Keith turned back. He felt Shiro’s eyes burning holes in his back, but he didn’t turn around. 

*

“Fucking hell, Hunk. That’s cheating. I swear to God, you’ll never have warm water again in the shower. I will haunt it and I will freeze your balls off.”

“It’s not cheating if you can’t explain it, you know the rules.”

“You can bet I can explain it, you’ve been counting the cards, haven’t you?” 

“You can’t prove it,” Hunk smirked. “Besides, if my calculations are correct, Keith should have a straight flush in his hand.” 

“I knew you were counting, you cheating son of a-” Lance gasped, outraged. “ _Wait what_?”

“Uhm, I’m not sure?” Keith showed his hand, confused. Lance started swearing in spanish. 

A loud alarm started blearing over their heads, interrupting Keith from asking how the fuck combinations in this game worked. Hunk and Keith flinched; it was an emergency call. 

Lance looked grim and paler than usual. “Go kick some Galra ass and don’t get killed, aright? I don’t need any company in this hell of glitches,” he said, sitting back on the pillow he had been slouching on. 

Hunk nodded, and then ran out of the room, his mouth a thin line. He really hated when Lance’s AI made jokes about its model’s death. Keith suspected that he came to the AI’s room to forget for an hour or two that his best friend was gone- he really didn’t need the reminder. But Lance’s AI had a sharper sense of humour; it was jarring sometimes, because Lance used to make pretty heavy-handed jokes from time to time, but he never really fell into this brand of dark humour. 

“Have you had any dream, recently?” Keith blurted out, getting up.

Lance looked surprised for just a second before smiling. It freaked Keith out; that fake grin was something that he had never seen Lance pull. “Not yet.” 

*

“Lance-”

“I’m scared. I can’t breath. Please-”

“ _Lance, look at me, it’s going to be fine_.”

“Blue, she’s- It’s- Keith, I can’t feel her anymore, she’s-” Lance cut himself off with a pained groan. “Everything hurts.” 

“I know, but it’s going to be fine.”

“I’m dying.” 

“F _uck no_ , you’re not dying.” 

Lance was dying. He was one hundred percent dying, and Keith had his blood up to his elbows trying to stop the bleeding in his gut, but Lance _was dying and it was Keith’s fault_. He was probably in too much pain to realize how fucked up his body was, and that was a mercy. Keith knew that it was Lance at all because of his blue flight suit. Half of his face was burned off. Half of his _body was missing_. The only reason he hadn’t died yet was because Red had somehow caught him mid-flight while he was blasted away from the explosion.

Blue was a pile of scraps floating just outside Red’s field of vision. Keith was too busy trying to keep Lance conscious to care about anything else that was happening around them, so Red had taken the wheel. 

They landed in the hangar with a crash. Not their most elegant landing, but Keith didn’t fucking care. He smashed a hand on the comm button and yelled at Coran to get his ass on the Red lion.

“I need a favour.”

*

“You’re quiet. Did something happen on the mission?”

“No, it was all right.”

“Shiro came to see me, last night.”

Keith sat up suddenly, and looked at Lance. He didn’t move. He still was laying in the grass, the stars shining in his eyes. It didn’t look like a hologram. It looked like a person. Like Lance.

He looked serene. Happy. Lonely. 

That wasn’t Lance.

“He told me that he was never coming down- I told you that.”

“Yeah, well. He changed his mind, clearly. He’s the leader, he can do whatever damn he pleases.”

“I guess.” Keith paused. “What did he tell you?”

“Oh, you know. Shiro-y stuff. That he was proud. That he was sorry.” Lance’s projection smiled at the starred sky. “Sweet dreams.” 

Silence blanketed them. Keith felt cold. _Shiro knew._

And so did Lance. He looked quiet. Peaceful. Resigned.

_That wasn’t Lance._

“Have you-” Keith swallowed, voice thick. “Have you managed to dream anything yet?”

Lance closed his eyes. “Not yet.” 

Keith stood up. He was supposed to be silent, since they were on the grass, but his boots clicked against the hard floor. 

“Are you going already?”

“Yeah.” Keith’s voice sounded wet. “Gotta train tomorrow. I need my sleep.”

“Sweet dreams, then.” 

Keith’s fist clenched on his Bayard. “Sweet dreams, Lance.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Graphic description and blood for Lance's actual death scene- it's not that graphic but I wanted to play it safe.
> 
> Mercy kill for Keith destroying Lance's AI data. 
> 
> I would've liked to expand a bit more on Lance as an AI, especially about the whole 'how much of Lance am I, really' but I found Keith much harder to write than I thought, so I kept it short.
> 
> ...I'm super mad because I just realized I missed the chance to title it _Do Artificial Intelligences Dream Of Electric Sheep?_ \- but yeah no, it wouldn't have made any sense. 
> 
> Come say hi on [my tumblr](http://deerna.tumblr.com/), on [twitter](http://twitter.com/somewhatclear), or go read [my drafts before I post them on here](http://somewhatclear.tumblr.com).


End file.
